Wonder • Five Hargreeves

29

"Number Five"

Winnie Hargreeves had run out of clothes.

It had never even occurred to her that could happen. Explosions! Shootings! Rain! More shootings! And at what cost? All of the outfits she brought over from France, thats what. She was officially exasperated.

"Five, how much trouble would it be if I just became a nudist?" Winnie asked, seriously contemplating it.

A freshly washed Winnie, dressed only in a fluffy white robe, stood at the foot of her bed and stared down at all of her ruined outfits. She picked up what once was her favorite white dress with the pockets and pouted at its irreparable state. It wasn't even white anymore.

"Well certainly it'd be a bother to blind everyone in the city first." Five replied.

Five was standing on-top of her bed as well, quickly scribbling out equations directly onto her wall. He had used up almost all of the other wall spaces, filling her room with white numbers and graphs.

"Now, now, joking about something like that with an artist is in poor taste." Winnie laughed playfully, tossing away her dress and spinning to go to her closet. She pulled open the doors in a grandiose manner.

"Joking?" His eyes never left the wall as he scratched out a series of numbers.

"All I have left are my old uniforms." Winnie spoke and sifted through the organized hangers. "I suppose I could always just wear that."

"They are practical." Five said, stepping back slightly from the wall to look over his work. He stared at it for a moment longer before going back in.

"You say that.. but are you sure you don't just want to see me back in my school girls uniform?" Winnie asked.

Five choked and whipped his head around to look at the girl. She was still facing her closet and sifting through clothes. His face had turned a shade of pink and he shook his head quickly to get back on task.

"You enjoy driving me mad, don't you?"

"I live for it my dearest." Winnie grinned knowingly and plucked a fresh uniform from the center. Her eyes then caught something interesting. "Oh?"

"What?" Five asked. Winnie had crouched down and stared at something in the back of her closet.

"Hmmm? A painting." She said. She pulled out the small canvas she saw, a fond smile playing at her lips.

"Is it important?" Fives interest was piqued. He tilted his head back to look at her over his shoulder. Their eyes met briefly.

"Probably not." Winnie shook her head and showed him the canvas. "Its just a bird."

He nodded and went back to work. "I suppose not everything is a future-telling."

"Oh yeah! Dad always went ballistic about that type of stuff. He'd say, 'Not every little art piece is about the future number 8!' He once made me and Luther run laps because of it." Winnie explained, imitating her late fathers voice and smiling fondly.

"He let you off easy?" Five asked in confusion.

"Yeah, but he punished Luther for it too- so it stood out to me." Winnie shrugged.

They both heard a knock at the door and Winnie tossed her painting aside. Five went back to his work as she made her way towards the sound. Flicking a damp strand of her hair over her shoulder, she pulled it open slightly and stuck her head around.